Upside Down
by Aedemiel
Summary: Extended scene from Season 4 Episode 18, The Monster at the End of this Book. Picks up in the motel just after Sam and Dean have found out about the Supernatural books.


"This is freakin' insane," Dean growled from his bed, where he was lounging and flipping through one of the 'Supernatural' books they'd picked up in the comic store. "How's this guy know all this stuff?"

"You got me," Sam replied, keeping his eyes firmly on his laptop. He was beginning to get the idea that this fandom was more than a little… unusual. He clicked on another link and his eyes widened at the essay someone had written about the relationship between him and his brother. Swallowing hard, he closed it and moved on to the next link.

"Everything is in here. I mean everything. From the racist truck to – to me having sex," Dean ranted. "I'm full-frontal in here, dude." The bedsprings protested as he rolled into a standing position and came over to sit next to Sam. "How come we haven't heard of them before?"

"They're pretty obscure. I mean, almost zero circulation," Sam said. He couldn't put that last website out of his head. _What the Hell was wrong with people?_ He shifted uncomfortably, his clothing feeling constrictive and hot. "Uh, started in '05. The publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And, uh, the last one – 'No Rest For The Wicked'–" he paused and turned the screen towards his brother, scrolling down to the end of the list of books. "Ends with you going to hell."

"I reiterate," Dean said, clicking on a link at the bottom of the page. "Freaking insane." He paused and frowned in surprise. "Check it out. There's actually fans. There's not many of them, but still. Did you read this?"

"Yeah," Sam said nervously. Dean had opened the forum and started reading the comments. He braced himself.

"Although for fans, they sure do complain a lot," Dean commented as he read. "Listen to this – Simpatico says 'the demon story line is trite, clichéd, and overall craptastic.' Yeah, well, screw you, Simpatico. We lived it."

"Yeah," Sam's hands were shaking, but whether it was with arousal or shock he wasn't sure. "Well, keep on reading. It gets better." His voice cracked slightly on the word 'better' but Dean didn't seem to notice. Nevertheless, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Sam was convinced he'd lost his mind. Why else would he be encouraging Dean to discover what some fans thought they got up to when they weren't hunting.

"There are 'Sam girls' and 'Dean girls'," Dean said, grinning. Then his face clouded with confusion. "What's a 'slash fan'?"

 _Oh, shit._ Sam had assumed Dean would already know the term. Now he was going to have to explain it? "As in... Sam-slash-Dean," Sam told him, arms folded defensively across his chest. "Together."

Dean squinted at him, baffled. "Like, together together?"

"Yeah," Sam said, wishing he could just disappear into a hole in the floor. Dean was going to be pissed, he knew it. But Dean just kept flicking his gaze from the Sam to the screen in front of him and back again.

After a moment, he said, "They do know we're brothers, right?"

"Doesn't seem to matter," Sam said. His voice was strained and he felt like his throat was closing shut.

"Oh, come on," Dean said irritably. "That... That's just sick." He slammed the laptop lid down and shoved it away from him. Sam felt a little dizzy. He'd been expecting more of a reaction. Hell, he'd expected Dean to have at least punched a hole in the wall. _But maybe he was just in shock. Maybe the big blowup would come later._

Dean stood up and began to pace. "Where the Hell do people get ideas like that?" he said. Sam couldn't look at him. He stared down at his knuckles.

"I don't know," he croaked.

Dean shook his head. "Unbelievable."

"I know."

The tension in the room had grown thick, the potential for violence crackled in the air. Dean raked his hands through his hair, rubbed the back of his neck and then finally wiped his hand across his mouth. Sam watched him silently, nerves taut and fraying.

"Did you read any of it?" Dean said finally.

Sam jerked with guilt and shame. "No," he lied, speaking too fast. But Dean wasn't buying it. Sam began to pray that he would just drop it.

"You did, didn't you?" Dean accused, his voice became lower and gruffer.

Sam hugged himself tighter, utterly mortified. "OK," he snapped. "You're right, I did."

Dean had stopped pacing and was stood in the middle of the room. Sam dared to peek up at him and winced at the storm clouds gathering in his brother's eyes.

"So, why would you even look at something like that?" Dean demanded.

Unable to stay seated, Sam exploded upwards and tried to put some distance between them. "I don't know, OK?" he snarled, turning his back on his brother. "I got curious."

A beat. "How curious?"

No. No, no, no. Sam did not want to go there. "Just drop it," he said. "Let's go find this Carver Edlund guy."

"Not until you answer my question," Dean said firmly.

Sam whirled around as his temper caught light. "We're gonna talk this one out?" he said incredulously. "You, who never talks about anything?"

"Don't tell me you've never thought about it," Dean said. Sam gaped at him. He'd thought there was nothing Dean could do to genuinely astonish him. He was wrong.

"You're not serious," he blurted out.

Dean's face was a mask. "Do I look like I'm joking to you?"

He didn't, that was the Hell of it. In fact, Sam couldn't remember a time Dean had looked more serious than he did right now.

When he didn't answer, Dean stepped closer. "Really, Sam? Not even once?" he pressed.

Sam closed his eyes. "Yes." Humiliation burned through him. This was it, he thought. He'd finally managed to do something that would push his brother away forever.

"That's what I thought," Dean said, sounding almost smug. Sam opened his eyes slowly to see Dean staring at him. "Me too."

"What?" Sam faltered, alarm singing through his nerve endings. What the Hell was Dean trying to tell him? That he wanted-

"You heard me."

The room was suffocating, Sam's fight or flight response kicked into high gear but he was trapped. He couldn't get to the door without going past Dean and the way his brother's feet were planted, he didn't think Dean would just let him go.

"I…" His eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for an escape route. He realized belatedly that in the meantime, Dean had gotten even closer. Sam's gaze riveted on his brother. He studied his face, every freckle and eyelash and tiny hint of stubble. He was gasping for air and he couldn't look away.

"What are you going to do?" Sam breathed, disoriented and even a little afraid.

Dean narrowed his eyes at him. "That's up to you." Sam didn't even know what that meant. "We don't _have_ to do anything." Sam began to relax a little. He still didn't know what was going on here, but burying it deep inside and pretending nothing had happened was fine by him. "But we _could_." Dean's eyes were intent, the pupils large and black. Sam's nascent desire flared and on the heels of that, panic.

"Could we?" Everything was spinning out of control and Sam was too confused to curb his tongue. "I mean… I… you… that's something you… could… want?"

Dean had gone very still, in that way he did when stalking a monster. "Yes."

Sam was beside himself with fear and uncertainty and yet undeniably aroused. When he'd first read the forum postings about slash fan fiction, he'd hardened suddenly and unexpectedly, before being overcome with shame. Hearing Dean say he wasn't completely opposed to the idea, despite his initial exclamations of disgust was almost more than he could bear. Had Dean felt this way before now? He didn't know what to say.

"So, what's it gonna be?" Dean said in a gentler tone when it became clear Sam was completely lost for words.

"I don't know," Sam admitted.

Dean shrugged, his mouth curling in a half-smile. "Take your time. Think about it." He stepped back, out of Sam's space and sauntered over to the nightstand to pick up his phone. "Let's go find this author dude."


End file.
